


Down in the Deep Ocean Blue

by Bi_Duckling



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fishing Village au, Happy Ending, I know!, It's what I wrote it for, Lots of near-drownings, M/M, Mark also get's kidnapped a lot, Mark is pinned down and forced to have orgasms a lot, Mer!Dark, Mer!Wilford, Merman!AU, Pain, Stockholm Syndrome, There's Comedy mixed in with panic and angst here, There's a lot of porn in here, and then Mer!Mark, bc Dark is a prick, but enough to mention it, hints of it, human!mark, it's a mess, mentions of blood and fighting, ngl, nothing too graphic, shocking, transformations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 07:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18384278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bi_Duckling/pseuds/Bi_Duckling
Summary: It wasn’t a dream, Mark concludes as his mind flashes back to earlier in the day. He did get pulled into the water, this thing was going to kill him. He has the bite wounds and the bruises on his body to prove it. Mark was going to be this thing’s meal, and he was going to die.But… then he didn’t.





	Down in the Deep Ocean Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PoemIsDead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoemIsDead/gifts), [Mad_Madame_Mim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Madame_Mim/gifts), [Heart_of_a_Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_of_a_Dragon/gifts), [therentistoodamnhigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therentistoodamnhigh/gifts).



> Because I can't seem to write smut without a story, here's yet another Merfolk!AU
> 
> Dark/Mark pairings are my life blood, and I will probably be the only one going down with this ship. 
> 
> Thank you for my beta, Mad_Madame_Mim <3

The net cast from a small dingy crashes into the water before tan hands reach out to start pulling back in the catch. Only a handful of fish end up being caught, and the man collects them with a sigh. After securing the catch, Mark sits down on the small seat and looks up at the sun as he takes a break.

 

~*~ Down in the Deep Ocean Blue ~*~

 

Mark looks over when he hears his best friend, Wade, shout when the fin of a live fish smacks his face before flopping back into the ocean. The laughter from Mark earns him a rude hand gesture from Wade shortly before he laughs along with him. 

The sky is clear but the wind is brisk along the waves. Mark rubs his hands together as the wind picks up. Food has been kinda scarce in his small fishing village, the overall harvest amount becoming thinner each year, and this catch is no exception. Mark isn’t normally a fisherman for the town, but they’ve spread out all around the nearby ocean in order to catch anything they can get. That’s why he’s out here, all hands on deck so-to-speak, reaching for his net and tossing it back into the calm waves beneath him. 

 

He can’t really see the bottom, watching the end of the net disappear into the stirred up clouds of sand caused by the rolling currents, and the sight causes Mark’s stomach to stir. Mark’s never been a fan of the ocean, which is ironic considering the fact that he lives in a fishing village, but the endless sailor stories and folklore managed to implant itself into the back of his mind with all his other fears and phobias. After the fifth day of fishing like this that week, Mark had started to become more comfortable with the rocking beneath his feet, even if it was slow progress. 

 

With some vibrations on the net indicating another round of fish, Mark begins to haul up the woven rope. It’s halfway pulled up before the next thing he knows, Mark is pulled hard and head first into the ocean. He lets go of the net immediately once he hits the water, his shout from being caught off guard being muffled by the water entering his mouth. He expels it right away, but it’s left him with very little air in his lungs. Disoriented and confused, Mark tries to open his eyes to find the surface. The salt water stings and blurs his vision, but he can make out the Sun. He swings around and kicks upwards towards the light shining through his closed eyelids. 

 

Someone grabs him, but it’s not for rescue. 

 

Mark flails and panics as he’s suddenly pulled back down, farther and deeper into the ocean. He flails his legs, landing his heel against something slippery but with light texture, and the resulting blow is practically deflected. Whatever has Mark releases him, but the freedom is brief. A thick and flexible  _ something  _ covered in the same slimy texture,  _ scales _ Mark soon realizes, pushes and winds between his legs. It wraps up high between his thighs the same time the others arms wrap around his chest and arms, bounding him to the point where he can barely move a muscle. Mark begins to thrash around as hard as he can, throwing all of his weight into breaking free, but his captor had apparently had enough. Large, sharp teeth pierce the skin between his shoulder and neck, and Mark screams in agony through his sealed lips as his body spazzes at the attack. This only causes the jaw latched onto his neck to tighten, threatening him more harm if he continues to rebel, but it’s gotten to the point where Mark’s instincts to survive are overriding his logical thought process. 

 

His lungs are burning, his brain is pounding, and he’s losing strength. He forces his body to twitch, hopeless last attempts to break free, before his brain finally overrides his mouth and forces him to breath. Mark cries out in despair, the last of his air supply bubbling past his lips right before the captors hand shoots up and covers his mouth with webbed fingers. As his vision goes black, he vaguely feels himself being manhandled before lips press against his own.

 

The bobbing of the waves and the distant cry of seagulls coax Mark awake. The Sun’s position tells Mark that it’s early evening as he lays on something both foreign and familiar. He’s draped over something. It feels like a body, and both his arms and legs are submerged as they hang over both sides of the form beneath him. A coughing fit wakes him up fully, his lungs reminding Mark that he, in fact,  _ did _ almost drown, and he clings to whatever he can grab to keep him from falling off from the movement. Hands on his back, that he didn’t realize were there before, add additional support as his body shakes from the resulting cough. 

 

His lungs finally give him a chance to breathe, and Mark takes a few deep breaths while his heartbeat starts to calm down. Now, it’s his head that’s demanding Mark to close his eyes where the sunlight against his face is not helping the raging headache pounding against his skull. The hands holding him start to move, one rubbing his back and keeping him in place while the other comes up to run through his hair and massaging his scalp. The sudden affection is more than welcome to Mark’s exhausted state. He tries to move his head to observe whoever is comforting him, but Mark realises that he doesn’t even have the strength to do that. His body overrides his orders once more, and Mark lets out a deep sigh as his hands lose their hold and slip back into the water.

 

He’s pulled back to consciousness by lips moving against his own. It’s slow but deep as Mark’s slack lips easily give way to the foreign tongue seeking entrance. Whoever is kissing him starts to  _ purr _ , of all things, and Mark feels the corners of his mouth twitch a smile as he moves his head for better access. His dick starts to take interest as he rocks his hips against the lightly rough but slippery skin. It provides a smooth glide with just a touch of friction, and the hand on his ass squeezes firm as he guides his hips. Mark moans into the kiss and brings his hands up through the water to run his fingers through the other’s hair. 

 

It’s the feeling of water and his hand brushing against something large where a normal ear should be that causes Mark’s eyes to fly open and and snap his head back away to break the kiss. The person beneath him flutters his own eyes open, black orbs with grey irises and blown black pupils. The lack of color doesn’t reduce the pure heat boring back at him. The heat of pleasure turns to that of anger when the man beneath him tries to pull Mark back in for another kiss and the human resists. Mark jerks back farther when the ear fins,  _ ear fins?! _ , fold back in annoyance and the purring from the man unmistakably turns into a growl. He nearly loses his balance in the process, and he braces himself on the man’s, no,  _ creature’s _ shoulders as he takes a quick inventory of what the fuck was even happening. 

 

The creature beneath him was barely holding back the urge to pull Mark back down so that they could continue. Clawed hands, decorated in a dark ruby red color with a spattering of scales, occasionally pulled at Mark’s biceps and back while it’s hips continued to roll between legs. It’s then Mark looks down and realizes that, yep, he is  _ very _ much naked and can’t recall when he even lost his clothes. His eyes widen even further when he sees the same scale pattern become more prominent the more south you went on the creature’s body, turning his head around to look back over his shoulder, his whole body goes still at the sight of it.

 

A large, dark red tail with a set of three fins, two guiding ones protruding at the hips and a whale-like fluke at the end is what greets his vision. The scales almost appear like they’re on fire from the reflection of the setting Sun sinking below the horizon. Mark snaps his head back to the creature- ..no, Mark corrects himself, this is a Merman. The merman’s growl of annoyance brings Mark’s attention back to it. The ear fins on the side of the man’s head match that of the fins on his hips. The webbing is the same red, but slightly transparent, with blue, needle like bones keep the loose skin fanned out. The red scales on his waist and hands fade to a darker grey skin tone the closer it gets to the torso. 

 

Mark’s not sure if he’s breathing due to the panic and/or shock that’s settling in, but whatever it is, the sea creature beneath him gets tired of waiting and rolls over resulting in the human falling back into the water below. He falls with a shout, hands attempt to grasp at something but nothing comes within reach. Mark pulls himself to the surface, but the creature is nowhere to be seen. His head is on a swivel, looking for any sign of the red tail, but there’s nothing but the gentle rolling waves to be seen. It’s then Mark has a dreadful realization:

 

There’s no sign of shore. 

 

He has no idea how far he’s out, let alone where he is, and there’s no landmark in sight to guide him to safety. Something brushes past his legs, and he shrieks. Mark slaps the water with his hands, feet kicking out on instinct in a fruitless attempt to defend himself, but he hits nothing. He soon realizes it’s his captor as the large spiked fin along its back rises out of the water as it circles him from a close distance. It soon dips back under, the end of his tail slapping the surface as it dives, and Mark can’t see a damn thing. The Sun, now under the horizon, makes it impossible to see any more than a foot deep beneath the surface. 

 

Mark continues to flail, kicking out in random directions in his best attempt to keep the hidden creature away, but it isn’t enough. He doesn’t even see him coming, and Mark is grabbed from behind. Arms bind his own to his sides, and he only has a second to breathe before the strong tail twists them and pulls them under. The creature is fast, moving with incredible speed that Mark can feel as the water rushes around him, and he can feel the pressure on his eardrums increase before he suddenly feels the sandy bottom. He opens his eyes briefly, but there’s no point. It’s pitch black where he is, and the water continues to sting them, so he keeps them shut. He’s manhandled around, and Mark manages to get a few blind swings to actually make contact with the creature before his wrists are grabbed with one hand and pinned. A heavy metal object, Mark thinks it’s some sort of large chain, is laid across his torso. The weight of it makes him sink briefly into the sand, and when the creature lets him go with only the chain pinning him, Mark has to clap a hand over his mouth in order to keep the air from pushing out of his lungs. He tries desperately to move the heavy chain off of him, but it barely moves. Whatever he can budge, it causes more pain on his abdomen. He reaches for anything to help pull him out from under it, but only grains of sand slide through his fingers.

 

A webbed hand on his chest makes him cry out, and he immediately grabs for it. The merman is back. He wasn’t left alone to die, at least not yet, and Mark takes every shred of hope he can get. The merman lets him hold onto his wrist, but he moves and strokes his own hand across Mark’s chest, thumb brushing against peaked nubs causes Mark’s body to jerk in response, and the creature does it again. Mark criticizes himself in his own head as a moan forces its way past his lips. He can feel the swaying strands of the others hair brushing against his own forehead, telling Mark that he’s close, and Mark whimpers as he pleads with every form of body language he can think of to convey his need for air. 

 

All that it earns him is another hand, this time teasing the side of his dick, and Mark’s hips jump at the contact. Barely there claws brush against the tip before the smoother side of the nails tease against the crown. Mark is able to bite back a whimper, but a moan is ripped from him once its enclosed in a fist, and it causes precious bubbles of air to escape. The hand starts to move, an easy glide in the water, and after a few perfect squeezes at the head on the upstroke forces the trapped air out of his lungs as he cries out at the sensation and his hand falls away from his face to brace himself on the sand. 

 

Mark instantly realizes his mistake, but before he can react, the creature is on him. A mouth with sharp teeth covers his own, and Mark tries to jerk away only once before his lungs are being filled with air,  _ fresh air.  _ It wasn’t a dream, Mark concludes as his mind flashes back to earlier in the day. He did get pulled into the water, this thing was going to kill him. He has the bite wounds and the bruises on his body to prove it. Mark was going to be this thing’s meal, and he was going to die. 

 

But… then he didn’t. The lips pressing against him now were, indeed, the same ones that gave him air earlier that day, and the same ones that woke him up on the surface. This thing was playing with Mark, bringing him to the brink of death again and again, and now that he has a fresh supply of air, Mark’s logical brain is  _ pissed.  _ He bites the lips of his aggressor, but that only seems to spur it on. The tail falls to the sand, forcing his legs to spread, and Mark whines as the hand on his dick never lets up. Mark uses one arm to wrap around the other’s neck, holding him in place so he can breathe, while the other goes for the hand below his waist. This merman growls at this, releasing his dick in favor of pinning Mark’s free hand to the soft surface below, and exchanges the friction of his palm for the friction of his scales. 

 

Mark can’t think straight. The odd supply of air is weird to get use to, making him have to think about breathing in time with the creature while having a tongue shoved down his throat, but the grinding against his hips sends constant shocks up his spine. There’s another hand at the back of his head, pulling him impossibly closer, and something in his mind shifts. It’s like a switch, one for submission. For a moment, Mark feels like he’s a passenger in his own body as it suddenly decides that it’s okay with this. He’s not dying, and he’s starting to feel good, really good actually. The water is weird, but it’s not cold, and  _ oh. _ The merman has shifted, and the glide of smooth scales feels even better. Mark’s back arches as much as it can against the metal restraint and moans into the mouth currently devouring his own. His wrist is let go in favor of holding his hand with fingers intertwining, and Mark grabs it back.

 

He dares to cautiously lick against the sharp teeth, finally responding back to more than just the need for air, and the action results in a growl and a harder thrust against him. Mark does it again, spurring the creature on even further, and his moans grow higher in pitch the closer he’s pushed to the edge. He vaguely feels something hard starting to slide out and next to his own dick, creating that last bit of friction needed to finish. 

 

His head snaps back against the sand, a natural reaction from the release, and cries out breaking the kiss. The air starts to escape before the creature releases his hand to seal his mouth shut with it. Mark’s hip snap as the merman bites the other side of his neck instead. Sharp teeth sink in deep, but this time it’s the right amount of pain mixed with his high, and his hips buck hard once more into the awaiting scales. His free hand has a vice grip on the creature’s own bicep, but it doesn’t seem phased as it lets Mark rut until he’s completely spent. 

 

Mark can’t enjoy the high long, the need to breathe again causing his body to twitch in a different way, and the creature takes pity on him. The chain is effortlessly removed, and Mark doesn’t think twice about wrapping his arms around the other’s neck and burying his face into its shoulder. The creature wastes no time returning the embrace and propelling them upwards. 

 

The sound of inhaling fresh air is surprisingly loud in his ears the moment he breaches the surface. Mark clings to the creatures with heavy arms, his upper limbs no longer weightless by the ocean. His lungs force him to cough a couple times, and Mark groans as another headache starts to settle in at the front of his skull. He rests his head near the junction of the creature’s neck and shoulder, and the opening and closing of the gills there tickle his nose. The merman gives him a couple minutes to recover, getting his breathing back under control, before it guides his head back far enough to look at him. 

 

Mark blinks the water from his eyes, and soon the merman comes back into focus. Night has fallen now and makes the eyes staring back at him seem pitch black. He can barely make out the light grey in the rising light of the moon, but even though they lack color, the heat of the stare never loses its intensity. Mark breaks the staring contest before he’s consumed by them and instead brings his gaze to its lips. They’re pulled into a smile, not quite different from a smirk, but the teeth are hidden. They’re tinted slightly darker than the rest of it’s skin, and he assumes that they’re bruised from the abuse of the kiss they shared down below. Mark’s face instantly flushes from the memory, and the creature begins to purr in response. It’s quieter than before, but it’s definitely there, and the smile does form into a smirk, showing off a full set of shark teeth, as the blush on Mark’s face deepens. Mark makes a noise of discomfort and breaks his gaze from that as well. The moon is bright enough to where he can see a dusting of scales decorating the creatures shoulders, and Mark slowly moves his arms to reveal more of them. 

 

The creature increases its own grip on Mark’s waist, arms wrapped more snugly around his lower back in case Mark plans to push away, but Mark doesn’t. He only moves his hands to hold onto the creatures biceps for support as he continues his observation. Three lines on each side of the merman’s neck open and close in a slow, rhythmic pattern, indicating that they were the gills that Mark felt from before, and he can see one of the brighter stars through the thin webbing of the fins adorned on the side of it’s head. The hair is brushed to one side, not quite pressed to the side of it’s head from the water as its now starting to dry in the open air. It has longer bangs, similar to Mark’s own, and he makes a note to get it cut again if he ever gets back on shore. 

 

Mark’s train of thought pauses at that. The shore, home, where dry land and a warm bed wait for him. Fuck, his friends and family are probably sick with worry. He doesn’t even know if he’s even going to make it home alive. It’s not like he can just swim away, since one, he doesn’t even know which way is home, two, there’s no way he can outswim this guy, and three, he’d probably die of exhaustion before he even saw land. His only hope for survival was at the complete mercy of the creature in his arms. 

 

The merman frowns, and the purring turning into a brief growl at the change of mood as tears start to stream down Mark’s face. The man closes his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of his captor, but they keep coming and he can’t keep back the sobs. Mark draws his lower lip into his own mouth, biting it to keep the sounds minimized, but it does little to help the shaking of his shoulders as his body shakes from the emotion coming from him. The merman nudges his forehead against Mark’s own, trying to get Mark to look at him, to comfort him, and Mark’s mind battles between leaning into the contact and shoving him away. He never decides what to do, and the conflict keeps him still and letting the merman do whatever it wants. 

 

Not like he can put up much of a fight anyway. He’s exhausted again, both mind and body, and Mark just wants to sleep it all away. His head falls to the creatures chest as he cries. The creature stays still, letting Mark do what he needs, and it’s a surprisingly small blessing among all of the events from today. Once Mark’s tears start to lessen, the other’s nose nudges against his hair before letting his lips fall to the most recent bite on his neck. Mark shivers as its tongue licks against the wound, cleaning it, and he whimpers as lips seal around the infliction. As the tongue works each puncture, it leaves a numbing sensation. It tingles, and Mark’s grip tightens as the other works in silence. One hand on Mark’s back pets down his spine, sharp fingers dancing over the occasional bump of vertebrae before raising back up to the base of his neck to repeat the process.

 

Mark sighs into his chest. The crying has stopped, leaving only tear-stained cheeks behind, and he lets the other’s touch comfort him as much as his mind will allow. The bite wounds on his shoulders feel better than they should’ve from a recent shark bite, and he realizes that it must be something in its saliva that heals it quickly. Mark is mildly grateful that there won't be an infection once this is over. 

 

The moon is higher in the sky, and the colder temperature starts to drop. His body shivers as a chilled wind blows across the waters surface, and Mark wraps himself around the creature once more in order to find warmth. The being itself isn’t very warm, it’s fish blood keeping it colder than Mark is used to, and he whimpers as his body continues to decrease in temperature. 

 

“C-cold…” Mark speaks for the first time since this encounter, the word barely audible to his own ears, but the merman seems to hear it. It draws his mouth away from Mark’s skin, and Mark can see some stains of old blood coating the other’s lips. It’s licked away as he stares down at Mark, and he follows the movement with his tired eyes before looking back into the other’s gaze. They hold the stare for a moment before the creature looks around, head swiveling left and right, and it’s nose sniffs the air for a brief moment before it decides on a direction. It hauls Mark higher up against him before it leans on his back and starts to swim along the water’s surface. Mark grips the other’s shoulder and torso with his hands and legs as they start to move, and it takes him a bit to find a comfortable balance before they find a comfortable rhythm to swim. He’s not sure where he’s being taken to, but the gentle rocking motion makes him more drowsy. The sound of waves waking around them as they move through the water adds to the lullaby, and Mark lets the exhaustion consume him as he lays his head down against the other’s head to rest. The moon is the last thing he sees, surrounded by multitudes of stars, before he closes his eyes. Mark thinks he feels the tail move faster before he loses consciousness. 

 

Visions in his mind dance behind his eyelids as he sleeps: A large pot of soup consisting of various sauces, chopped up vegetables, and chunks of meat cooking over an open flame, laughter and drinks, and dice games with Bob, Wade, and Amy. Beautiful Amy. Regret pangs in his heart for never asking her for a date. Flashes of memory, them both dancing around the subject, but never bringing up the idea. They were always too afraid of one thing or another. He now wishes he did, as his mind stares at the image of her smiling back at him. Her brown hair sways in the wind, eyes only for him, he makes an oath to skip straight to asking her to marry him once this ordeal was over. 

 

Ordeal… what ordeal? Wasn’t he home? Mark looks back at Amy, and her hair has started to sway funny. The lighting was off, too. It gave almost gave the appearance of being under water-- 

 

The vision changes. Brown hair becomes black, so do the eyes. Teeth and nails grow to points, and breasts melt away into a grey, sculpted chest. Red tail, arms, and fins take place the longer he looks. Mark panics as the creature lunges at him with a snarl.

 

Mark shouts and startles himself awake right when the image’s teeth bites him. He flails around on the ground, head spinning left and right as he takes in his surroundings before realizing that it was a dream. It’s still dark out, stars blanketing the sky, but the moon has moved far towards the other horizon. He’s laying on a makeshift bed of large leaves and brush, with an additional large leaf providing its use as a makeshift blanket. A glow of some form of light catches his attention, and his vision snaps over to a fire burning nearby.

 

He stares in shock as the flames flicker brightly, and Mark now realizes that he feels much warmer than before and is no longer freezing. He’s still very naked, but the creature is nowhere in sight. Mark has no idea how he got here, and assumes it had something to do with the merman, but that doesn’t explain the fire. He’s higher up on the beach, away from the waves, and he sees no sign of how he got this far away from the water. The high tide is gone, along with any evidence leading to his current predicament, and Mark is dumbfounded. 

 

After a moment, he tries to get to his feet. His legs are still weak from, well,  _ everything _ , so it takes him a couple tries, but Mark is eventually successful. Gathering one of the large leaves to wrap around himself, he looks around. What he sees makes him sigh in disappointment. There’s a makeshift shelter nearby that’s falling apart. It’s basically a roof with four poles for support, but it’s old and beat up by the various weather systems that have blown through over the years. The island he finds himself on is small, to the point where he can actually see the other side of it fairly easily. It takes on a crescent moon shape, the tips of it forming a small but deep pool of ocean water inside its arms, and Mark is on the inner circle of the beach. There are a spattering of trees and brush across the island, enough to explain where the makeshift shelter came from, but as for food or fresh water, there’s no sign of them. 

 

It isn’t home, Mark realizes with sadness in his heart, and he doesn’t recognize the island. Nothing he’s read in any navigational charts ever depicted this kind of island near his own land either, and his heart sinks even deeper. With a heavy heart, he turns back to the fire and sits beside it. He brings his hands out to feel the heat of the flames, bringing his only form of comfort for the time being while he tries to form a plan on what to do. 

 

The sun starts to rise a few hours later, and Mark has failed to come up with any solid proof plan on getting home. Not even any plans with a high chance of success reaches his mind. The fire has died down, and Mark has placed some of the brush from his bed into the flames to keep some embers lit. The rising sun will bring warmer temperatures today, so he only wants to keep the flame lit long enough so he doesn’t have to relight it by nightfall. He’s walking back with more brush from the island when he suddenly sees the creature again. Its front is resting against the sand, propped up on its scaled covered forearms, and its staring at Mark with an unreadable expression. The sun rises higher, and for the first time since this all started, Mark get’s a proper look at the merman. The red scales take on a fiery appearance underneath the shallows as rays of sunlight shine upon it. The fins remind him of a tiger fish even though the color remains the same throughout the textures. It wasn’t just the lack of lighting that was playing tricks with his eyes either, Mark notes, but that indeed the human half of the creature has grey skin. It shines where the water laps against him, and Mark is mesmerized. The tail is dipping slowly in and out of the water to keep the rest of the scales damp as it lays on the beach. In front of the creature rests about five fish, claw marks ripped through scales indicating their demise, and they rest in a small bed of seaweed. 

 

Mark’s stomach growls instantly, and he places a hand over his abs to quiet it down. It had been since yesterday morning since he had eaten, but his fight or flight instinct had tampered down his desire to eat for the remainder of that day. Now that he was more or less relatively safe, the need to replenish had come back at full force. 

 

The merman practically snorts at the sound but does nothing more than watch Mark. He’s pretty sure the thing brought him food, but the fucker is actually going to make Mark approach him to get it. 

 

That fucking tart.

 

With a huff, Mark lowers the collected brush on the ground and makes sure it won’t blow away before he starts to walk over to the creature. He swears the tail moves a bit faster like that of a dog as he approaches it, but he decides not to comment on it lest he actually get his face bitten off in the process. Instead, he stops a couple feet away from the creature and crouches down to look at him at eye level. Grey eyes never look away, watching every move Mark makes, and Mark doesn’t break the stare as he slowly reaches for the fish. He’s posed to move back should the creature ever become aggressive, and his legs start to cramp from the tense position, but the need to retreat never comes. He grabs the edges of the seaweed and drags it towards him and brings the fish with it. One of them slides off, but before Mark can debate if he should grab it, the creature snatches it up and swallows it whole in one smooth motion. The human is frozen in place as he watches the creature’s throat bulge and move the snack down, with little hesitation, all the while never breaking its stare with the man in front of him. Mark swallows dryly in response.

 

A loud smack of the tail snapping against the water startles Mark to the point where he falls back on his ass with a high pitched shout. It’s clear that the creature is laughing at him once he regains his balance, scaled shoulders shaking with each hiss of laughter that passes through those sharp teeth. Mark fights the urge to kick sand back into its face and insteads picks up the fish with a curse and storms off to the other side of the fire to start ripping at the scales of his meal. A few sticks later and Mark has the skewered fish roasting by the campfire. The creature watches him at a distance from his place in on the shore as Mark gathers a couple more branches to increase the heat of the flames before it dips back into the deep pool to swim. Mark sees the spiked fin on its back occasionally pop out of the water and part the surface before going back under. It’s usually followed by a brief flicker of the tail fin, but otherwise the water is quiet. 

 

The cooked fish are a welcomed presence in his stomach, and he watches the occasional cloud drift across the sky as he eats his lunch. The sun is almost at high noon, and the temperature is pleasant again today. They’re not affected at all by Mark’s predicament, and this thought alone somehow annoys him. The weather isn’t bothered by Mark’s displeasement either, and he throws the fish bones down the beach with a huff. 

 

A deep, vibrating chitter catches his attention, and he turns back to see that the merman has came back into shallower waters. He blinks at the creature in surprise. “Was.. was that  _ you? _ ” Mark asks, and the creature does it again as if it was a reply. Was that how it talked? It raises a hand, ignoring the confused stare, and beckons Mark over with a repeating curl of its index finger. “What?! No! I’m not going back in there! Are you crazy?!” The creature pointedly looks down at the sand, and Mark follows his gaze. 

 

He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to be looking for, at first, but then he sees it. He can make out the high tide line, and it covers most of the island. Mark’s eyes fly back to the creature, and it’s giving him a pointed stare. 

 

Mark can wait all he wants. One way or another, that creature is going to get him. 

 

The merman watches at the human cries out and kicks a tree with bottom of his foot out of frustration. The trees aren’t terribly big, and they provide no shelter from the threat of being grabbed by the sea creature. Mark huffs and paces the beach for a few minutes before finally turning back and facing the being in the surf. It’s clearly amused by Mark’s distress and it beckons him over once more with a knowing smile.

 

Mark shifts from one foot to another, biting his lip in frustration, before he finally moves towards it. It feels like a death sentence, honestly, and that he’s walking towards the gallows. When Mark gets within reach, the beckoning hand grabs his ankle and shakes it lightly, demanding Mark to sit down. He does as requested, not wanting to piss off the creature any more than he has already, and the merman wastes no time pushing up between Mark’s legs. 

 

The action startles the human, causing him to lean back on one forearm while the other hand goes up to hold the merman’s shoulder. “H-hey, wait a minute, what are you..?” The creature silences him with a kiss and a nip to his inner thigh. Mark shivers as the stubble on the man’s face tickles his skin, and the creature settles into an easy position where its head is right over his groin. Mark’s eyes widen into saucers when he realizes what’s about to happen, but his protest dies in his throat as merman licks a solid stripe from the base to his head. He falls back into the sand with a groan as the creature does it again, and Mark drags his nails down the dusting of scales as it sucks and licks right at the base of his crown. His free hand goes to the creature’s head and threads his fingers through damp strands of hair. 

 

Webbed fingers wrap around the base and begin to pump in earnest, water and precum acting as the only lubricant, and Mark arches his back as he’s brought to full mast. Mark curses, his head starting to roll side to side, as the other hand cups and rolls him gently below. The mouth swallows him whole, hand moving away to hold his hips steady, and Mark shouts as the creature begins sucking in earnest. Mark’s grip tightens, hips starting to roll against the restraint, and the resulting purr sends shockwaves straight through his dick and up his spine. He’s brought to the brink before the hand at his balls moves to form a tight ring around the base, and Mark curses and kicks at the sand in frustration as this happens again and again. “Fuckin’--  _ come on!”  _ Mark cries out after the fifth time he’s denied release. There’s tears forming at the corner of his eyes, and his chest is heaving from the exertion. “ _ Please, _ shit, let me come already,  _ fuck.”  _

 

The creature does quite the opposite, it turns out. The mouth slows to a stop before pulling off altogether, and Mark will never admit the whimper that leaves his lips from the loss. The merman ignores his protest and instead grabs Mark’s hips and tugs. Mark’s breath hitches, eyes flying to the creature’s own as he does it again, and Mark swallows. It wants him to go into the water, wants to pull him back under. It licks once at his crown again when Mark doesn’t answer, and the human’s hips buck up at the contact. Mark’s head falls back into the sand, his hands loosening his grip in the creature’s hair as he considers his options.

 

Like he even has a choice. At least it’s asking him first…

 

Mark closes his eyes, letting his fingers massage the scalp beneath his palms as he psychs himself up for the inevitable. He nods his head, agreeing to both himself and the creature, and he takes even breaths. One, then two, and on the third he inhales and brings a hand up to cover his mouth as the merman drags him into the water in one long pull. 

 

He’s under the surface in an instant, and Mark can feel that he’s being tugged to the deeper part of the pool. The water is warm here, the majority of it being sectioned away from the colder ocean, and it brings him a small comfort before he’s righted vertically and left to float there. Mark really wishes he had some sort of mask on so that he could see under the surf, but he’s again flying blind and at the mercy of this thing that’s captured him. 

 

His fears are quickly put aside as the mouth returns to his groin once more. Mark’s free hand flies to its hair and grips the strands as the head beneath him begins to bob once more. The clawed hands dig into his ass, encouraging him to fuck the best as he can, and Mark can’t hold back. He rocks as hard as he can, legs pressing against the creatures sides to steady himself, and part of him hopes the thing chokes on him in some form of revenge for all of this bullshit. It never happens, or if it does, Mark never feels it, but soon he’s too gone to care. A clawed finger starts to tease at his entrance, and that’s all it takes to push Mark over the edge. His hips stutter out of rhythm as he comes hard down the creatures throat, and Mark cries out as he keeps being milked for all he has. The air in his lungs escape through his cupped mouth, and his body spazzes from both the lack of air and pleasure racking his body. 

 

His hand is ripped away, a mouth quickly replacing it, and Mark instantly opens up as fresh air is forced down his throat. Mark wraps his arms around the creatures shoulders and pulls him flush with his own body. His hips roll through the aftershocks, and Mark can feel that own foreign hardness pressing against his own softening one. 

 

Mark doesn’t think twice as he reaches one hand down to wrap around it. It’s slick like oil, and it forms to a point at the head, but he jacks it off just the same. The hands on his back and ass tighten, and Mark can feel the resulting growl reverberate within himself from the attention. He feels them being propelled back to shore, and Mark inhales the fresh air through his nose as they breach the surface. His back hits the beach, pushed up just enough to where Mark can lean his head back and still breathe easily, and the creature crawls over and covers his body with his own before it starts to rock into him. It slides easily against the v of his hips, and Mark looks down to look at it. The narrowed thing is protruding from a barely seen slit right in the middle of where his skin turns into scales, and it’s own slick clings to it instead of washing away with the current. 

 

The merman steadies itself on one arm above Mark’s shoulder as it takes its other hand to rub some of the substance onto its fingers before dipping it’s hand lower under Mark. The human curses as he feels a finger slip in with ease, three fourths of the way in until the webbing gets in the way. It’s far enough to get the job done, though, and Mark arches as a second one is pressed in and finds that sweet spot. There’s a mouth on his chest, nipping and licking at the tanned skin, before finally sealing over a dusky peak. Mark’s hands find the other’s hair, gripping and clawing along its scalp as the being starts to suck and tease at his chest. The stimulation starts stirring up his own interest again, and his mind is whirling from the fast rebound. 

 

A third finger enters and thrusts into him, and Mark can’t help but start to rock back to meet them. The mouth has moved to the other peak, and Mark wraps his legs around the other’s waist while being careful of the fins there. The fingers are soon removed, but Mark only has a moment to whimper at the loss as the creature pushes his legs apart a bit to reposition at his entrance. Mark’s legs constrict the creature once more as it pushes inside all in one go, and he shouts as the creature bottoms out. There’s teeth at his neck, and Mark rolls his head to the side to give better access as it nips and growls at his skin. 

 

Soon, the scaled hips start to roll, then thrust into Mark. If it wasn’t for the arms bracing above his shoulders, Mark would be pushed up onto the beach with each push. He feels full, so full. Even if the shape is foreign, it’s doing a damn good job at driving and splitting Mark apart. He moves his hands down the creatures back, blunt nails scraping down the scales that border the base of the large back fin, and the creature nips harder with a growl. Mark does it again, just because he can, and the resulting sound makes his eardrums reverberate. 

 

He lets his head fall to the other side when the creature starts decorating the other part of his neck in love bites and hickeys, and Mark starts to rock his hips back in time with the creature’s thrusts. The pace picks up, and his hips are angled to where he hits that one spot on each push. The fact that Mark is back to the brink leaves his head spinning again, and one of his hands fall to his own cock to give it relief. The merman’s hips start to lose pace, the growls becoming ever more prominent, and Mark acts before he can think. He raises his head to the side of the creature’s own and lets his heavy breaths and moans pour directly into the creatures webbed ear before he love-bites the flesh. 

 

The resulting sound the creature makes can only be described as guttural, and it’s the only warning Mark gets before the creature comes inside him. It’s surprisingly hot, the seed spilling inside him, and Mark barely gets to focus on it before sharp teeth sink into his neck and hold firm. The foreign combination catapults Mark over the edge, and Mark tosses his head back against the sand as he cries out in ecstasy. 

 

Streaks of white are washed away with the current as the rolling movement of the hips begins to slow to a stop. The low, constant growling battles with the sound of rolling waves in the distance as they come down from their high. Mark whimpers as he feels the dick inside him slowly retreat back into the creature as it softens, and he winces as teeth are slowly drawn from his neck. A tongue immediately laps at the seeping wound, and Mark lets his head roll to the side and closes his eyes with a sigh as he lets the healing sensation take over.

 

Lips soon travel up his neck to nip at his ear and kiss at his jaw before sliding that sinful tongue back against his own. Mark grabs the other’s hand and intertwines their fingers as they come back down to earth.

 

This thing is becoming an addicting poison, Mark concludes as the creature stares down with heavy lidded eyes. It pulls him under, both his mind and his body, bringing him to the brink of pleasure and death, and he’s starting to get use to it. He’s starting to trust it, and that in itself should set off warning bells, but it doesn’t. Mark’s nose scrunches as the other’s bangs dangle and tickle his face. The merman smirks in response before leaning down nudging Mark’s face with his nose. The water lapping up against them is warm from the afternoon Sun, the sound they make threatens to lure Mark back to sleep for a nap, and the low purring and kisses against his face makes the human fall deeper into this trance of comfort and safety. 

 

Mark tells himself that he can’t give up as he raises his arms to wrap around the creatures shoulders. He can’t fall for this creature’s trap, the one who has tried to kill him before, the one that will probably kill him again once it gets bored, the one who’s licking at the seam of his lips to make the frown he has go away, and the one that holds Mark close as he deepens the kiss and makes his brain stop functioning. He needs to get away from this. 

He’s not sure if he can.

 

The day passes by, Mark not giving any notice to the moving sun until both of their stomachs growl for food. The creature almost seems reluctant to pull away, but the growling near their abdomen doesn’t cease. Mark chuckles and starts to nudge away the merman currently napping on him. “C’mon. We both need to eat.” The creature huffs into Mark’s neck, not wanting to move, but after more poking and prodding from the human, the creature lifts himself back onto his hands and pushes away. 

 

Mark stands up and wades into the water to wash his body of the sand that clings to his skin. He watches as the creature swirls around his legs underneath the reflective surface before raising its torso just enough to cup and nip at his ass. Mark bats kneading claws away with a laugh. It growls at the ‘attack’, and Mark turns around with a huff before leaning down to kiss the sneer away. The growling eventually stops, and Mark breaks the kiss. The glare is still there, but Mark is starting to think that it’s a permanent expression. Their stomachs growl once more, and Mark give the creature a knowing look before the merman finally chitters and goes back under the water. Mark watches the red fin and tail of the creature swim towards the edge of the pool and launch into the air to jump over the sandbar that connects the two ends of the crescent moon island before swimming deep into the sea. It’s not until he disappears into the ocean where Mark finally turns around to tend to the fire. 

 

Luckily, there are still some embers left, and Mark uses the previously discarded brush to ignite the flames once more. By the time the flames are back to their normal blaze, the creature breaches the surface and swims back into the pool towards Mark. The human runs his hands through the hair and over the fins and scales of the creature’s head as it rests in his lap while the skewered fish roast by the flames. The merman is on its back, large fin folded and pressed up against its spine as it stares up with Mark with almost a drunk expression. It raises an eyebrow at Mark’s chuckle from the thought, and the human shakes his head to dismiss any concerns. 

 

They share their dinner together once it’s ready, cooked for Mark, raw for the merman, and they watch the moon rise in the sky as the waves lap at the beach. Exhaustion soon calls for Mark, and he bids the creature goodnight with a brush of bangs and a kiss. The merman sinks beneath the surface of the pool to sleep, and Mark falls into slumber with the vision of stars and the moon reflecting off the current. 

 

Mark bids the merman farewell again as it goes out to catch breakfast the next morning. It’s day three in the life Mark finds himself in, and he finds that he’s more tired than normal. He realizes that he hasn’t had any fresh water for a while, and he curses at himself. He can only survive on fish for so long, and he makes a note to try and inform the merman about it somehow once he returns. For now, he keeps the fire lit to a small flame, conserving all the resources as much as possible, and rests with his back towards the ocean. He watches the trees sway, trying to come up with a solution to his water shortage, when he hears a splash from behind him. Mark turns his head without concern, assuming the creature is back with breakfast, but then his eyes widen to the size of saucers. He screams as he’s grabbed and hauled into the ocean, and the campfire is left to burn unattended. 

 

\--------------

 

Mark finds himself on another beach, pressed against the sand by a different merman. For fucks sake, there’s  _ two  _ of these guys? He’s very much pinned by a much larger creature, with the tail and large fins being similar to that of a Great White shark. There’s no real fish features on the other’s face besides pointed ears and sharp teeth. The human half matches the tanned skin tone of Mark’s own, but the black, bushy mustache and slightly shorter black hair makes up the difference. The ever-present grin that’s directed at Mark doesn’t make him feel any more comfortable. The muscle difference is twice the size of Mark’s own if he judges by the large arms folded resting across Mark’s chest. The weight makes it hard to breathe, though he can still get some air, but the creature doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that Mark is starting to get winded. 

 

Instead, it dips its head and starts to sniff Mark’s face, then his ears and neck, and Mark whimpers as he feels the brush of its mustache against his skin. It’s almost wirey, but with a softness to it, and Mark squirms as it starts to tickle him. His legs are pinned under the base of the tail, and he’s lucky that his arms are free enough to grip at the other’s shoulders. It’s sucking on his neck now, right where the red one’s bites are, and his body must be more whipped than he thought as he feels his dick start to take interest. Mark asks it to wait, to stop, but it doesn’t. It’s only when Mark mention that it’s getting hard to breathe, that he needs air, that the large creature pulls them into the shallows before flipping their position. 

 

Mark’s legs are spread wide on large hips, to the point where it’s almost uncomfortable, and the merman beneath wraps his arms around Mark’s waist and pulls him flush with his own torso to keep from getting away. Mark squirms in his grip, but the hold is solid. He even tries biting at the shoulder to get away, but apparently any kind of pain Mark inflicts on these creatures is a damn turn-on. The lack of water and the periods of not having air are starting to make Mark dizzy, so eventually his body just goes slack as he buries his head into the creature’s shoulder to block out the sun and focuses on breathing. The creature doesn’t seem to mind his surrender and entertains itself by sniffing, licking, and nipping Mark’s shoulder, neck, and collarbone while it’s hands roam, squeeze, and scrape at his back, ass, and thighs. 

 

It’s when one of those hands start to wander to his groin where Mark whines weakly in protest and tries to push it away. The creature isn’t even mad when it casually picks up Mark instead and turns him around so that his back is pressed against the large chest. One of the muscular arms comes up around his upper torso and underneath Mark’s arms, making it impossible for Mark to reach down and stop its advancement on playing with the human’s organ. Mark whines louder, asking it to not do this, but the creature only purrs into Mark’s ear as its palm encircles his half hard member. 

 

Mark clings to the arm around his chest for dear life as the creature scoops up some water to use as lubrication before getting back to work. It feels just as good, if not better than before with the red one, and Mark’s exhausted body is too tired to rebel as his hips start to rock up on instinct. Mark’s thighs part as he starts to feel the merman’s own hardness start to slip up between his legs from the hidden slit below. The slickness feels amazing once the creature uses it to lube up its hand once more, and soon it’s jacking both of them off with one large hand. Mark’s eyes widen in fear as it grows in girth, and he makes a plea for it  _ not  _ to be stuck inside him, that there isn’t anyway it will fit. The creature doesn’t seem to mind, and Mark is relieved that it seems content by just bringing them off to completion by its fist alone.

 

Mark lets his head rest against the creatures shoulder, long since given up on stopping it, and he closes his eyes as he lets the purring and pleasure roll over him in waves. He isn’t aware of the creature licking its lips as brown eyes start to eye his neck. Nor is he aware of the jaw opening hovering over his skin. All Mark is aware of is the fist speeding up faster over both of them, and that he’s sure his moans, cries, and curses are increasing both in volume and pitch with each squease of the head. Mark is sure he’s begging for release at this point, just a couple more times, squeeze a little tighter, move a little faster, and he’s  _ right there- _

 

The creature suddenly howls in pain, body jerking violently, and the motion causes Mark to be bucked off his hips and into the water with his own shout of shock. Mark surfaces himself, finding that he can sit in the water and still breathe, and his head is on a swivel as he hears a bunch of splashing, growling, and screeching. The merman is flinging his tail in every direction, doing his best to try and get whatever has a hold on it to let go. Mark sees a flash of red once the tail is in the air, and his heart drops to his stomach.

 

The first merman, the red one, has its teeth and claws sunk deep into the flesh of the Great White’s. The second one finally manages to fling the other off, and it lands in the water with a splash. Instead of swimming right back after it for another attack, Mark sees the red fin shift above the surface and speed right towards him. Mark instantly panics, scrambling backwards up towards the shore as far as he can go, but it’s not enough. Clawed hands sink into Mark and launch both him and itself onto the beach from the momentum. Mark’s back slams into the sand, and his eyes fly open as he starts to shake in fear. 

 

The merman is cast in shadow, the sun right behind its head, but Mark doesn’t need the light to see how visibly pissed he is. It’s barely controlled rage, the corners of his lips barely holding back a snarl, and its chest is heaving from the exertion. All of the events the last few days, specifically the bad ones, come rushing back as he stares into rage-slitted eyes, and his body violently shudders before the tears finally start to fall. He covers his face with his hands to protect himself, legs curling as much as they can into a fetal position, as he starts to cry out and sob. Broken apologies and pleas for his life are muffled through his hands as the emotion rips through his body. The creature above him doesn’t move for a solid minute, and Mark is too fucking scared to look at it again. 

 

He vaguely hears the other one do some sort of combination between a growl and a battle cry, and the creature above him snarls in response over its shoulder before launching off off Mark and back into the sea to fight. The sounds of splashes and snarling reach Mark’s ears as he bites his lip to keep from crying too loudly, and soon it’s just him and the waves again. A part of Mark’s mind suggests that they’re probably fighting underwater now, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s too tired, too angry, too sore, and soon will be too sick to give any kind of fuck. Mark gives up. He just wants to sleep and wake up from this twisted version of a nightmare. His body gives in to his request for sleep, and Mark falls unconscious with tears streaming down his face as exhaustion finally pulls him under. 

 

Mark vaguely recalls the feeling of being dragged back into the ocean, if a bit slowly, before losing consciousness again. The second time he wakes, he’s on top of someone. They’re swimming, not quickly by any means, and it’s almost as if to keep Mark from waking up. The sky is dark which tells Mark that he’s been out for quite some time. There’s an iron smell in the air that’s blended in with the spray of salt water. It’s blood, Mark slowly realizes, and he closes his eyes as his hands move on their own accord to the wounds he can reach and begins to clean them. The creature beneath him hisses and growls softly in response, and the sound confirms that he’s back on the original merman that captured him. His hands fall back into the waves as sleep captures him once more. 

 

It’s the sunlight that brings Mark fully back to consciousness. He’s back on the bed of leaves, and the campfire has a small flame burning nearby. The headache has became a migraine, and his throat is dying of thirst. He tries to speak, but he can barely get a word out, so he stays quiet. He can’t see the creature anyway, and Mark assumes that it has gone somewhere to rest.

 

Mark tries to sit up, but his body feels heavy. He can’t sit up, let alone stand, and his body aches something fierce. It’s easier to lay there and sleep, so Mark does. He dreams of sun, of sand, of waves. He dreams of home, of friends and family, throwing an arm around his shoulders and supporting him as he walks, as  _ they _ walk along the shore. He hears his name and he calls back, and he feels warm like he’s clothed again. It’s such a pleasant comfort, and he clings to the fabric as he walks. It’s not until he has a canteen pressed to his lips and cold water pours down his throat that he’s realizing that it isn’t a dream. Mark coughs and hacks, the cold water being a shock to his system, and he feels a hand on his back rubbing through the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

 

“Mark! MARK! C’mon man, come back to us!”

 

Mark eyes snap up to see Wade kneeling beside him. They’re on a boat, a larger fishing boat, and Bob is there as well. Bob is currently treating the old bite wounds on his shoulder while Wade is holding the canteen with his other hand. There are a few more people on deck, fellow fisherman that Mark vaguely recognises that are taking care of steering and sailing the boat. “W-wade? Bob?” 

 

Both of his friends are visibly relieved, their sighs turning to smiles as they start taking care of him again. “There he is,” Bob says with a laugh, “Good to have you back, buddy.”

 

“H-how did you-” Mark coughs mid sentence, his voice still dry and abused. Wade offers him water, and he drains half of its contents before trying again, “How did you find me?” 

 

“Process of elimination, unfortunately,” Wade explains. “We’re surrounded by the shallows back home, but we never found your body. We started checking the nearby islands before we finally spotted the smoke from the fire. What happened to you, man?”

 

Mark blinks and looks around before spotting the island in the distance. He can’t see the smoke trail anymore, the guys must’ve put it out, and he scans the horizon for a sign of red scales and grey skin. 

 

He sees none. 

 

Bob calls out for Mark when he goes quiet, and Mark blinks tiredly. 

 

“Shark attack,” Mark explains briefly. He doesn’t elaborate when asked, and Bob and Wade share a look of concern. Out of nowhere, Mark pulls them both in for a hug and just his emotions flow. Arms tighten around him as sobs shake his body, and he buries his face into their shoulders. 

 

“We got you, buddy,” Mark hears Bob say near his ear.

 

Wade rubs his back in comfort. “Let’s get you home.”

 

The next few weeks are a confusing and emotional blur. He’s the talk of the small fishing town. The people there are enamored with the fact that he experienced a shark attack, let alone three days at sea with little shelter, and still made it home alive. They’re always so  _ loud,  _ so Mark stays inside his home where it’s quiet. His friends make sure he doesn’t have to do much the first few days. They force him to rest, they cook him food, and try to discuss various topics to help both distract Mark and bring him back to normalcy. 

 

Amy visits him the same day he gets back, and he doesn’t say a word as he embraces her. She stiffens for just a second before she returns the embrace, and it’s instantly more than a friendly hug. Mark buries his nose into her hair, and it smells of sea salt, soap, and distinctly Amy. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, hands resting lightly on her curved hips, and her hands come up to cup his own face covered in untrimmed stubble. 

 

It’s a completely different experience compared to the mermen, and Mark doesn’t know how he feels about that.

 

Unshed tears dampen both of their eyes that reflect guilt, love, heartache, and relief. Bob and Wade stand at a distance with a happy smile for them both. 

 

Mark never lays another foot on the beach, let alone near the ocean, but he stares at it from the top of the towns highest hill. The blue water alone with an endless horizon makes his stomach turn with mixed emotions. Less dead and more hydrated, Mark takes the time to reflect on every event that happened. As much as it terrified him, he doesn’t want to forget anything.

 

Two months pass, and Mark finds that he can wade into the shallows of the river without any fear. He’s moved inland now, not terribly far away from the beach, but it’s brought him some peace. He maintains the dam and nets near his home that sits just up the hill from the riverbank. It allows him to contribute to the catch for the village, just with fresh water instead of salt water fish, and Mark doesn’t mind. 

 

That still doesn’t stop him from carrying around a harpoon as he walks. He started that habit the day he got back, and it’s never left his side since. The village doesn’t question it, and he doesn’t address it either. 

 

There’s a spattering of clouds in the sky, but otherwise it’s a normal, sunny day. Summer is here, and Mark walks out to the riverbank in his backyard with a fishing pole, some bait, and the harpoon. He’s dressed in light pants, drawstring tied around his waist, and a loose shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Mark sits down and lets his feet dip into the water until the surface is up to his ankles. The feeling of water still makes him nervous, but it’s getting better. He distracts himself by tying a bait to the end of his hook. Once secure, he draws it slowly back over his shoulder before looking forward to the deeper end of the river.  
  
Mark freezes pre-cast when a familiar pair of fish eyes meet his own brown ones. 

 

There, head half out of water, with black hair and red ear fins, is the merman staring right back at him. Mark shreeks, feet yanking out of the water as the fishing pole is cast aside and forgotten, and he scrambles for the harpoon before grabbing it and getting to his feet. 

 

The creature watches the entire thing with a neutral expression and doesn’t even flinch as the point of the harpoon is directed at him. Instead, it moves slowly after it takes a quick look around to see if there’s anyone else nearby. It places its hands on the shallows before pushing up and out of the deep end of the river. The motions are slow, like it doesn’t want to scare Mark away, but Mark’s grip on the harpoon holds steady.

 

At least, until he sees its wounds. Mark is momentarily stunned, point of the harpoon dropping a little as his eyes widen. They’re scars now, but they definitely weren't there before he was kidnapped by merman #2. True, it’s been a while since Mark has seen it, so it’s not entirely impossible to say that they weren’t caused by the fight. As his eyes travel the scar-rattled torso, however, a voice in the back of Mark’s mind calls ‘bullshit’.

 

The tail is raised enough to where Mark can tell that it didn’t manage much better from the battle. The fins everywhere seemed to have made it out okay, but the scars make it look like he has scar-textured tiger stripes. Mark’s heart drops in his chest at the sight. 

 

The creature chitters at him, and Mark sighs before taking a step backwards. The creature glares at him, offended that Mark has ignored his call. “No!” Mark shouts, enforcing his decision to stay on land by raising the harpoon again. “You… Just… stay away from me. I can’t. Not again. Don’t make me hurt you.” The merman huffs in response, its tail smacking in frustration against the water, and Mark purses his lips before deciding to turn around and retreat back inside the safety of his home. 

 

He almost makes it to the door when the first notes of a deep baritone melody hits Mark’s ears and causes him to freeze in place. It’s hauntingly beautiful and reminds him of a moon-lit night and a blanket full of stars. It both scares him and draws Mark into a sense of peace and consumption. His head turns of its own accord, and hooded brown eyes land back on the source of the haunted tune. 

 

The creature is right where Mark left it, and it’s laid out in the shallows with its head resting in the crook of its arms, and its lips are moving in time with each note that is sung. Mark doesn’t even notice when his feet start traveling across the grass and back into the water. 

 

He sinks to his knees when he gets close, water lapping up to his waist, and the harpoon drops into the shallows with a muted ‘clang’ as Mark crawls on all fours to meet the merman. In turn, the creature pushes itself back onto its forearms as Mark approaches, the melody never missing a note as it reaches up to cup the back of Mark’s head and starts to pull him close. Mark’s eyes droop shut at the first brush of lips against his own. 

 

The next events happen in a matter of seconds. 

 

There’s a hand on the back of Mark’s shirt collar before he’s violently yanked away and back onto land. The creature shrieks in shock as an iron net is tossed over it and quickly captures the beast. There’s shouting, Mark thinks its Bob, and it sounds like orders are given to haul the creature up onto land and into a nearby pond near the front of Mark’s house. Mark shakes his head as the tune fades and his mind tries to break the trance it was lured into. Wade pats the side of his face, calling his name, and Mark holds onto his friend as he groans and comes too. He finally manages to get some sort of confirmation to Wade that, yes, he’s fine, just dizzy, and he turns his head towards the screaming creature as it’s thrown into the pond. 

 

The pond is far enough away to where even the creature can’t get enough speed to jump over the land and back into the river. It’s deep but small, and there isn’t much there since it’s mostly rain water that’s collected over time. The creature is effectively trapped, much like Mark was, and his eyes finally clear once he comes to that realization. 

 

Mark makes a motion with his hand, wanting his harpoon, and it’s soon given to him by someone; He’s not sure who, his mind is too focused, too angry to move his gaze away to anything but the creature. 

 

Wade helps him stand, but Mark uses the harpoon as a walking stick to move the rest of the way over to the other body of water. The creature has freed itself of the net by the time Mark reaches the edge, and the merman is greeted with the point of the harpoon inches away from its face when Mark calls out to it. It’s slitted eyes zero in on it, the rest of its body becoming still, before it moves its gaze up to Mark’s. 

 

The anger that comes from both parties could rival each other.

 

“How  _ dare _ you,” Mark starts, and the creature’s eyes narrow in response, “How many times are you going to lure me and bring me to the brink of death? I  _ fear _ the ocean because of you now, you know that?! Me, a fisherman, afraid of fishing. It’s amazing I’m not the laughing stock of the entire village!” The creature starts to chitter back, but Mark is having none of it. “NO. I am DONE listening to you, to trusting you. You took me away from my home, kidnapped me, tortured me,  _ raped- _ ,” 

 

Mark cuts himself off this time, looking away and swallowing. He isn’t ready to confess that to his friends yet. He already now has to explain that it wasn’t a shark, but the merman that captured him. Adding that sexual detail is something Mark plans to put off as long as possible. He looks at Bob, Wade, and Amy standing back a ways, all eyes on the creature, and he closes his own eyes before looking back down into the pond.  

 

Mark takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as he lowers the harpoon. “No. Not anymore. I refuse to do anything else you say. Now you can be trapped as I was trapped, suffer as I suffered. Behave… and you might stay alive.” 

 

The creature’s eyes focus on Mark when he speaks the last bit, and it bares its fangs at the threat.

 

Mark doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he turns and walks away, telling the creature to be quiet if it knows what’s good for it. The merman chitters and growls angrily, even cries out for Mark a couple times, but he ignores it. It takes Mark more willpower than it should to walk away, and that angers him even more. Fortunately, it doesn’t take much convincing to make his friends retreat back into his home and away from the merman in his pond. 

 

Night falls, and everyone is on their fourth round of tea and nibbled on bread rolls by the time Mark has finished explaining the truth of what happened to him out at sea. Again, he’s left out the details of the sexual exploits, but the regular drowning sessions and second kidnapping had been explained vividly. Mark had to stop now and then to just cry out his emotions as the memories kept beating against his brain. Amy, bless her, held him through it all. Bob’s gaze barely left the flames burning in the fireplace, and the glint of the embers reflected the heat and anger in Wade’s eyes as he leaned against the window sill with crossed arms and stared out towards the river. 

 

Bob has to stop Wade more than once from grabbing the harpoon and stabbing the ‘Half Fish’ himself in revenge for Mark’s pain. Mark also pleas for them to just leave it alone until Mark can think for a bit and decide on what to do with it. He also pleas for them to keep it a secret. Miraculously, they agree, even if Wade grumbles about it, they all don’t want any more drama to occur in their village for a while, so they keep silent. 

 

Bob walks Amy home, only agreeing to leave when Mark accepts that Wade will stay the night to keep watch, and they bid them a goodnight. Wade offers some makeshift earplugs to Mark, glaring and not leaving his side until Mark surrenders and puts them in, before settling onto Mark’s couch and opening a book to read. Mark bids Wade a good night and heads to his own room before collapsing onto his bed for rest.

 

He swears he can hear the creature calling for him from the pond, and Mark whimpers, bites his lip, fights the pull in his heart to go back to the merman, to be with it, before shoving the pillow over his head to block out the sound.

 

Mark doesn’t sleep well that night, nor the nights that follow. 

 

A week passes, and the rip in his heart deepens. He doesn’t dare approach the pond without another friend of his present, and they observe the creature as it lays in the bottom of it. Mark wonders if its a trick of the light, but the coloring seems to be duller on the scales. He mentions the observation out loud, and Amy makes the suggestion that it  _ did _ come from the ocean, and it’s currently sitting in fresh water. It probably isn’t use to it. Mark hums and tosses some caught ocean fish into the pond. 

 

Wade tells him to let it die, but Mark remembers that it fed him even when he was captured. Eye for an eye, and all that. Wade huffs but doesn’t comment any further. 

Another week passes, and Mark definitely can tell that the fresh water is having an effect on the creature. Mark even dares to venture to the pond by himself, but the merman barely has any energy to try and come to the surface to meet him. Shredded bits of fish tell Mark that it is eating what he’s feeding it, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. There’s not enough fresh flowing water given to the pond to help ease the discomfort either. Mark realizes that it’s indeed suffering, and he’s decided that it’s suffered enough. 

The next day, Mark approaches the pond cautiously with a net. It’s early morning, hours before his friends are supposed to arrive for the day, and he peaks over the edge of the pond and calls out the the merman. He doesn’t see it right away, and Mark’s eyes scan the water for any sign of it. He begins to panic, thinking that it swam off to die somewhere deep in the pond, when he’s suddenly struck on the back of the head.

 

Mark collapses to the ground with a shout. The impact blackens his vision momentarily, but it’s not enough to knock him out. His head, however, is pulsing in pain, and he reaches up towards the impact sight to check for damage. 

 

He doesn’t get the chance to inspect anything. Mark is manhandled onto his back before he’s being straddled. Familiar hands are around his neck in an instant, gripping tightly and cutting off any cries for help, and Mark’s hands scramble at their wrists in an attempt to pull them away. “ **I gave you** **_everything,_ ** **and** **_this_ ** **is how you repay me?”**

 

Mark’s eyes fly open to meet slitted fish ones, and they’re full of anger, rage, and hurt. In a brief moment of shock, he forgets that he’s trying to breathe, trying to escape. There’s only one thought on his mind.

 

The creature spoke. The merman can  _ speak. _

 

Mark notes through the hopeless struggle that most of the features that defined the creature as a merman are also gone. Normal ears, no fins, gills, or scales in sight, and the tail has been replaced by legs.

 

The grip tightens on his neck, pulling Mark back into the present, and chokes as he tries to inhale air. He tries everything to break free, bucking his hips, clawing at the other’s face, but the creature never moves, never wavers, and only snarls at Mark’s rebellion. 

 

“ **Have it your way. I should’ve killed you when I first pulled you under. This is a mistake that I will now fix,** **_you pathetic excuse for a human!”_ ** It’s the last words Mark hears before his head is dragged over the edge and shoved under the surface of the pond. 

 

HIs body spazzes instantly, the fear of drowning and lack of air immediately assaulting his body and lungs, and Mark forces a cry from his throat before sealing his lips shut against the torrent of water entering his mouth. It tastes gross, nothing like the bitter taste of salt water against his tongue. 

 

Mark’s lungs burn, and his mind vision starts to blacken from lack of oxygen. The grip never loosens, and he’s never pulled to the surface.

 

Is he really going to die here?

 

Something in Mark snaps. Whether it’s survival instinct, fight or flight, anger, or adrenaline, it ignites inside Mark’s core like a spark. As fuel reacts to a flame, every nerve ending in Mark ignites to life, consuming every muscle and settling deep inside his bones, and his body feels  _ alive.  _ A newfound strength rips through Mark’s body, and his hands start pulling the fingers around his neck apart. 

 

Mark inhales and finds that he can breathe. The creature above him seems to stiffen and become still under Mark’s advancements, and Mark uses the opportunity to his advantage and he tries to buck the creature off of him again. He actually gets the creature airborn a few inches, but it’s enough to bring the merman back to reality. 

 

Hands release his neck, but slam Mark’s head into the side of the stone wall with impossible speed. The impact stuns Mark once more, and he rapidly blinks in an attempt to clear his vision. He’s pulled out of the water, and his lungs ache as he inhales air for the first time. Mark isn’t given a lot of time to regain his balance, and his arm is thrown over the creatures shoulder as it hauls him towards the backyard and into the river. 

 

Mark’s body feels literally on fire, and he’s pretty sure it’s not just due to the near-death experience. He cries out and starts to whimper as it feels like his muscles are being torn apart from the inside. Mark collapses once his feet hit the river’s surface, and the merman picks him up bridal style before slipping into the deeper channel of the current.

 

Water enters Mark’s mouth once again, and the fresh intake and coolness against his skin is a welcome presence. His body still feels like its snapping into pieces, and Mark cries out and clings as the merman starts to swim and carry him at a frantic pace. Whatever its planning, it brings no relief to Mark as the pain becomes too intense. The last thing Mark sees is red fins and a tail swishing frantically through the water and creating a beautiful swish of bubbles through the morning sun’s rays.

 

The position of Mark waking on top of someone while floating in a body of water is starting to become old, he concludes. There are hands on his sides, holding him loosely in place, and clawed thumbs brush against the side of his hips. They still as Mark starts to move and make known that he’s awake, and his grumpy, sleepy eyes meet slitted ones. They’re more neutral now, less angry, more controlled, and the permanent scowl is back. 

 

Mark flicks the creatures nose in annoyance, and he’s promptly thrown into the ocean.

 

He spins around under water, reorienting himself to head towards the surface, when it occurs to Mark that his body feels all weird and  _ wrong _ . Mark also notices that he can actually  _ breathe _ under water, and he goes still as all of this information catches up to him. A tail,  _ his own tail _ , a bright red of shimmering scales, with kinder features but not dissimilar to the other merman’s own greets his vision. Mark’s hands travel up and around his own skin on instinct, and feels the tell-tale ridges and textures of scales and skin underneath his clawed webbed hands. Mark reaches up and feels his ear fins and larger fin extending from his back. They twitch and sway to his own terms, and the sensation is as natural as moving his own arm around. His new body knows what to do if Mark wants to do something, and it makes Mark pause in awe as his tail keeps him in place. 

 

It takes a moment to hit Mark that he’s actually now a merman himself, and his moment of awe becomes anger  _ very _ quickly. He feels that the slap to the other’s face via tail fin as the merman approaches behind him is quite justified. The action seems to stun the creature more than anything else, but Mark is too pissed to really care at this point. He points his finger accusedly at the other and begins to chitter loudly.  _ “YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE. DID YOU SERIOUSLY TURN ME INTO A FISH?!” _

 

The other seems to come out of his stupor and the scowl is quickly returned.  _ “ _ **_If you recall, I was trying to kill you! Your body apparently decided that it didn’t want to be human anymore. And the term you’re looking for is a ‘mer-creature’ by your human standards, you illiterate brat.”_ **

 

“I’m  _ the brat?!”  _ Mark chitters back angrily, _ “Seriously?! Who’s the one who acted like their toy got taken away because he kept  _ trying to break it? _ ” _

 

**_“I gave you shelter, food, and fire!”_ **

 

_ “All of which I have back on shore!” _

 

_ “ _ **_I kept you safe!_ ** _ ” _

 

_ “I hardly call being kidnapped thrice, once by  _ another  _ merman, and nearly drowned repeatedly ‘safe’!” _

 

_ “ _ **_I made you my mate, and you_ ** **left** **_me to die!”_ **

 

**“** _ I-... What?”  _ Mark floats in the water, anger briefly disappearing as he observes the other in front of him. It’s then he sees it, for the briefest of moments as the being in front of him tries to control his own emotions. It’s pain, hurt, and heartbreak, before finally returning to a scowl. It’s clear that the creature didn’t mean for that confession to slip, that it came out in the heat of their argument, but Mark’s hand still reaches up and strokes his neck where he remembers the creature biting him before his rescue. The creature isn’t taking it back, though, and Mark’s expression sobers. “ _ You _ forced _ me to mate with you. Even if it wasn’t, how was I supposed to know? It’s not like you didn’t speak to me until just a few hours ago. _

 

“ **_I can’t speak your language unless I take on my human appearance. We’re not ‘built’ that way,”_ ** the creature explains, and Mark scowls in response but takes the explanation for what it is.  _ “ _ **_And you… stopped resisting._ ** _ ” _

Mark, understandably, punches him right in the jaw for that one. Even that doesn’t seem to faze the fucker, and Mark spins around out of frustration and starts to swim away. He spots a sunken ship, idly noting that’s probably where that creature found the chain to pin him under that first time, and starts swimming towards it since it’s the only visible location to go to. 

 

He doesn’t get far before his arm is grabbed, and Mark swings back on instinct with another punch aimed right for the creatures jaw. This punch is caught, so Mark bares his fangs and tries to bite. The other has had about enough of Mark’s rebellion and he propels them to the ground until Mark’s back hits the sand, his fin folding down on instinct to prevent it from breaking. Mark curses and calls the creature names, letting all his frustrations from the past few months go. He cries out all his fears and anger-fueled days, how he haunted Mark in his dreams for weeks following the kidnapping, and that he wasn’t there when he woke up.  _ Then suddenly he was, _ and Mark had been confused, scared, and didn’t know what he wanted, and then Mark was just expected to accept it and  _ come back- _

 

The press of lips against his brows and the corner of his eye is unexpected. The other is chittering low and soft, pressed chest-to-tail on top of Mark, and there are arms wrapped around his waist between his back and the sand. Mark starts to sob as the caresses continue, and he buries his face into the crook of the creatures neck and wraps his own arms around its shoulders. “ _ Y-you thought I left you to die..? You idiot… after that fight, I thought _ you _ died. I thought you were  _ gone _ , that you left me stranded on the that island, and for two months, I thought you were dead-”  _

Lips cover his own, silencing his chittering rant, and it feels like home. Mark wastes no time letting him in, hands threading through his hair as he pulls him closer and grants entrance into his mouth. They start to slide against each other, and Mark’s own chitters are loud in his ears. The kiss breaks, and Mark throws his head back into the sand as the creature on top of him moves into a better position before rutting in earnest. Mark chuckles at one point, and the creature’s eyes snap to his face in confusion. “I don’t even know your name,” Mark mutters with a defeated smile, but the statement causes the other to slow to a stop. 

 

The man above him stares down at Mark with lidded eyes, considering him, before it replies.  **_“It’s… complicated, but I suppose the easiest translation to your language is.. Dark.”_ ** Mark’s lips twitch in amusement at the simple yet odd name, but the glare from the other, Dark, keeps him from commenting. 

 

Instead, Mark whispers his name before pulling him back down into a kiss and thrusting his hips. The resulting body shudder and growl reignites the familiar desire to have this creature moving against him once more, and the feeling seems to be mutual. 

 

The building tension is briefly disturbed as Mark watches in awe and shock his own genitila emerge from a slit that is still foreign to him, but the feelings are swept away with the current as Dark wraps a hand around them both and begins to stroke in earnest. 

Mark’s mouth fights a losing battle of dominance as it tries to devour Dark’s own, and his arms draped around Dark’s shoulders and neck tighten as careful clawed fingers press into his entrance right below his groin. It feels different from before, when he was human, because it’s slicker now and seems to give way more freely. Like it was built for what was about to happen, and Mark whines into the kiss at the thought of something much bigger pushing in and spreading him apart. 

 

The real thing is nothing like the imagination, and it causes Mark’s head to snap back as Dark thrusts in all in one go. His hips are lifted into the water, hands and arms braced against the sand being the only thing touching the bottom of the sea floor, and Dark doesn’t hold back as Mark is fucked in earnest. He pumps himself with one hand, the other grabbing and pulling at Dark’s hair and back, and Mark tilts his head to the side as sharp teeth start to nip and drag against his neck and shoulder. 

 

Mark doesn’t last long once the teeth sink in. All the foreign yet blindingly pleasurable shocks raving havoc through his body, and Mark comes with a shout. His own claws form, sinking into skin and scales above him, and Dark’s growl causes Mark’s ears to ache as he thrusts hard twice before unloading into Mark. Even that feeling of being filled is intensified, and Mark’s body shudders a second time as Dark comes to completion. 

 

They settle back into the sand, practically melting into it and each other, and Mark’s gills work overtime as he tries to get his heartbeat back under control. He flinches as Dark’s teeth pull out from his shoulder, and Mark moves to nose at his cheek until Dark turns to press his lips against his own. 

 

A muffled ‘ **_mine_ ** ’ gets growled between their kiss, and Mark returns his arms to around Dark’s neck to keep him close. 

 

A week passes, and Mark has started to master living a double life as a human during the day while becoming a merman at night. Dark comes and gets him by the riverbank once the sun sets and takes him back at the brink of sunrise. Mark either sleeps in the ocean most nights, or on days where his nightmares still seem to linger, Dark accompanies him in his own room. He complains about clothing and the feeling of sheets, but he never refuses. Mark would feel bad if it wasn’t for the fact that Dark seems to fall asleep with a snore almost immediately every time. 

 

He never told his friends what happened. Mark made up some bullshit excuse of the creature escaping at some point at night, and his friends seem to be on high alert when they look out towards the ocean. Mark smiles, but says nothing more than that. 

 

Tonight, he’s hunting for food with Dark. They’ve split off just a bit, weaving through the forest of kelp somewhat close to shore, but far enough away not to be spotted. He’s weaving through a particularly dense part of kelp growth when he looks up and is greeted by brown eyes, a wide smile, and a wiry mustache. 

 

Mark’s scream for help has Dark there in an instant, the point of a harpoon against an unfazed half-shark’s neck, and Dark’s other arm holding Mark right by his side. Dark stole the harpoon the third day after Mark had turned, and he never gave it back. He uses it as a trident now, and Mark never stops teasing him about it.

 

**_“What are you doing here, Wilford? I thought I told you to stay out of my territory.”_ ** Dark’s voice is loud in Mark’s ears as Mark hides next to him, but the hand on his hip brings him a grounding comfort. 

 

The half-shark, Wilford, laughs and pokes at the tip of the harpoon. “Darky!” Mark snorts at the nickname, and Dark scowls. “ _ I smelled the human again! Though, I guess he’s not quite that anymore, is he?” _ Wilford doesn’t even try to be subtle as his eyes trail hungrily down Mark’s new form. After a moment, Wilford gasps and his eyes shoot up to Dark. “He’s yours, Darky? Is he your first one?!” He asks with a wide smile and hopeful eyes, and Mark becomes confused as Dark’s eye twitches. Wilford’s expression becomes one of cockiness.  _ “Oh-hoh~ He didn’t tell you about how transformation works?” _

 

**_“Wilford-”_ **

 

“ _ You have to mate and breed with them first! Gotta get your merfish DNA from somewhere.~” _ Mark’s face becomes the shade of a ripe tomato as he thinks back to every encounter as a human, and Dark presses the harpoon tip further into Wilford’s thoat. 

 

Mark whips his head around to face Dark, “ _ You BRED me?!” _

 

**_“It’s not ‘breeding’! Wilford, you know better than to call it that! I did not make him pregnant,”_ ** Dark yells back at the other creature as Mark’s brain short circuits on the word ‘pregnant’. 

Wilford smirks, “ _ Yet.” _

 

_ “‘Yet’?!”  _ Mark squeeks out, and Dark wipes the harpoon at Wilford’s face - who dodges it effortlessly. 

 

“ _ Aw, if I had got to him first, he would’ve looked like me, _ ” Wilford adds, and Mark starts to feel his soul leave his body.

**_“If you even let him live. You have a terrible habit of wanting to eat each creature you mate with.”_ **

 

Mark snaps out of his shock, and his mind flashes back to the scene with him and Wilford on the beach. “ _ Wait, what?” _

 

“ _ Okay, that’s not fair, Darky. I didn’t eat you!”  _ Wiford replies with a pout. 

 

Mark’s gaze snaps back and forth between the two, “ _ WHAT?” _

 

**_“That’s because I stabbed you with an abandoned, rusty butter knife and escaped before you got the chance,”_ ** Dark explains, both creatures ignoring Mark’s crisis. 

 

Wilford huffs and crosses his arms. “ _ I still have that scar, by the way. _ ”

 

**_“Good!”_** Dark swipes with the harpoon once more for good measure, and Wilford dodges it once again with grace. **_“Now, if you excuse us, we’ll be on our way, and I suggest you do the same before I shove this harpoon down your throat.”_**

 

_ “You’re always so kinky after sunset, Darky~”  _ Dark growls at Wilfords flirtation, but the shark man ignores it. _ “And who is ‘we’?” _

 

Dark squints before he realizes that Mark is no longer by his side - but is swimming away back to shore with a scowl on his face.  **_“Wha- HEY!”_ **

 

Dark swims after him, Mark sends a rude gesture and a string of curse words back at them, and Wilford’s gleeful laugh echoes throughout the ocean current as the full moon shines down upon them through the calm surface above. 

 

~~Fin~~

  
  
  



End file.
